


Playing a Game

by taffetaDirigible



Category: Game Grumps
Genre: Classic Rock, M/M, dude on dude action, hot blowjobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-14
Updated: 2015-09-14
Packaged: 2018-04-20 18:26:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4797722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taffetaDirigible/pseuds/taffetaDirigible
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's a late night in the office...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Playing a Game

It was late. Really late. Like, three in the morning gotta be up in five hours late. Dan blinked hard against the bright light of his screen. Unlike Arin and the rest, he preferred to operate from his laptop on the couch as opposed to a conventional desk setup with multiple monitors, equal parts elegant and intimidating. While Barry and Ross sat in their proverbial captain’s chairs behind their battle stations, Danny would sprawl wide-legged and lazy in leaned back bliss, one computer on his lap and another to his side if need be. He was long past caring what anyone thought of his habits. Life was too short to be uncomfortable.

He wiped his open palm down his face as he struggled to stay awake. He blinked again. Maybe it was time to call it a night. With a yawn that forced his eyes shut he closed his computer, sliding it into his bag as he stood and made his way out of their recording space.

In his dazed state he almost walked right past the lit up recording booth that should have been as dark as the rest of the office. He was certain he’d been the last to leave. And yet-

From across the room it was hard to see through the small window of the booth’s closed door, but the mysterious figure that passed across his field of vision was clearly wearing a dress. Puzzled, Danny took a few steps closer. Suzy was currently out of town and Holly hadn’t mentioned coming in to record any time soon, certainly not in the middle of the night.

By the time he reached the door and could properly look inside, a music track had started to play. He chuckled sleepily in recognition and murmured “sweet” under his breath as the keyboard riff of Jefferson Starship’s “[Jane](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sXmrMMYpQL4)” filled his ears. Whoever was in there had their back to the door and Danny watched in confused semi-arousal as their hips began to sway back and forth in time with the song. The lights within the studio were dimmed low, casting shadows and obscuring features. In sync with the building intensity of the song’s intro into its signature hook, the dancer within shook their hair back and forth, earning a low groan from Danny’s throat.

He loved this song. It was a familiar favorite to arguably many people his own age, but he would always know it best as the opening track to one of his favorite movies, Wet Hot American Summer. In fact, he’d only very recently convinced Arin to finally watch it, and it had pleased him how much Arin had liked it. In fact, Arin-

He thoughts stumbled to a halt.

Arin had definitely thought it was- a good- movie-

In time with the music, the figure in the booth spun around, not looking at him, not seeming to know anyone else was in the building, staring at a fixed point somewhere past Dan’s shoulder, lips moving along with the song’s lyrics. His hands smoothed down the front of his body from his chest past the hem of the dress to his knees. In addition to the dress he had also done his eyes - surprisingly well - in smoky hues, lashes painted long and thick. And- was that lip gloss-

Dan’s heart froze in his chest. He forgot how to breathe. He should have known. Lord knew that he and the rest of the internet had seen those pictures a thousand times before. In the dimmed lights the little maroon dress with it’s thin straps and low cut front hadn’t been immediately recognizable but now it was all too obvious.

And then Arin’s gaze shifted straight forward and their eyes met through the window.

 _Surely he’s recording this_ , Dan thought as a unique blend of emotions took their turn washing over his brain. Surprise. Guilt. Annoyance. Plus it was pretty funny. And then there was his lingering hard-on that he was trying not to think about. _This is for a video or something. He’s not just dancing around in a dress alone in the Grump Space for his own amusement._  
  
Right?  


Arin froze. Only for a moment. Some other human being might have reacted with embarrassment. Might have recoiled or covered themselves or tried to justify and explain. Maybe even most other human beings. But not Arin Hanson.

Dan’s lips tightened. He felt simultaneously guilty just for being there and also indignant at being subjected to... whatever the hell was going on.

A beat passed.

And then Arin started to walk forward in time with the music, pulling the door open, his eyes still locked with Dan’s. His lips moved along with the lyrics in the build up to a guitar solo that always sent chills down Dan’s spine...

“Jane, you’re playing a game, you’re playing a game, playing a game-”

With every step forward that Arin took Danny involuntarily backed up a pace, until his calves came into contact with an office chair and he gracelessly fell into it.

 _Come on, man_. Dan’s subconscious was screaming at him to get up and leave but his body was exhausted from the long day and still kinda turned on from minutes prior, before he’d known it was Arin he’d been watching. His eyes narrowed in annoyance.

 _Of course he’s treating this like some sort of staring contest. Of course he’s gonna push this until_ I’m _the one to freak out. Fucking Mr. I’m So Straight I’ll Suck a Dick. Mr. I’m So Straight I’ll Talk All Day About All the Guys I’d Let Fuck Me. Asshole.  
_

True to Dan’s assessment of the situation, Arin leaned over Dan’s seated frame, one hand on either armrest, his mouth twisted up in an evil, shit-eating grin. Daring him to flinch. When Dan didn’t, his hands drifted onto Dan’s upper arms, sliding down to his wrists and then inwards to rest on his thighs.

Arin tilted his head to the side and gave Dan a look he’d seen a thousand times before, one that clearly read ‘You can’t win this game’, complete with a knowingly arched eyebrow. One of his hands was slowly creeping up and in, rubbing Dan’s inner thigh, inching higher and higher, the equivalent of counting to three and adding extra fractions in a game of chicken approaching the edge of the proverbial cliff. One. Two.

Two and a half.

Two and three quarters-

Danny managed to maintain eye contact, and to his credit only barely hitched his breath as that last moment to back out disappeared and Arin was officially rubbing his dick over his jeans.

It was an odd sort of triumph. For the first time in their friendship, Dan felt as though he actually had the upper hand for once in one of these repeated attempts to make him squirm and tap out. He answered Arin’s faltering cocky expression with a raised eyebrow of his own and a confidence he hoped looked more believable than it felt. He gave a small shrug.

There were no actual words exchanged between them, but when Arin rubbed up along the length of Dan’s erection with the heel of his hand and Dan’s response was to inhale sharply and visibly grip the arms of his chair, something changed across Arin’s face. The slight smile was still there but the gleeful mirth was gone, replaced with something sultry, something dark and full of longing, something Dan had long suspected beneath the joking and the comedic value of being incredibly comfortable with one’s own sexuality; a grain of truth. Dan had lost count of the number of times Arin had offered to fuck him, immediately claim he was joking followed by “ _Unless you’re into it in which case I wasn’t joking_.” And Dan would roll his eyes, play his part in the joke and act annoyed for the comedy of it all and change the subject.

There was hesitation on Arin’s face. As though he wasn’t sure if he’d gone too far. If he’d revealed something he couldn’t take back. Only for a moment.

Dan’s feeling of victory vanished as soon as Arin unbuttoned the fly of his jeans.

He’d played poker with Arin enough times to know he wouldn’t back down. It wasn’t money that drew them both to the card game. It was the thrill. The risk. The nerve that it took to keep a straight face and take a chance.

Dan’s legs trembled as Arin wrapped his fingers slowly, experimentally around the length of his cock, dragging the pad of his thumb across the slick tip. Dan lifted one of his hands off its death grip on the chair grasp his own face, biting on the side of it to stifle a moan. His eyes began to slide closed in pleasure but he forced them back open, fascinated and unable to look away from the sight of Arin kneeling on the floor in front of him, between his legs, wearing a fucking dress and make up and it shouldn’t have been so goddamn sexy but it just- fucking- _was_ what with his tousled hair and the _look_ on his face-

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Danny was panicking. He’d thought he’d been alone in the Space, if Arin had been here who else might be? Or who might come in at any fucking moment? What if Ross came in? Or Mark? Or _Suzy_ , despite the odds against it on account of her being several states away. Though with a bemused mental shrug, he immediately realized her reaction would likely range from apathy to delight, skewing towards the delight end of that particular spectrum. No, Ross was obviously the real potential threat, he would never ever _ever_ hear the end of it if-

Every anxiety ridden thought vanished in a rush of pleasure as Dan felt Arin take him into his mouth, warm and wet and suddenly the center of the universe. “Oh- _god_ -” Arin growled low in his throat and Dan could _feel_ it around his dick, soft and steady vibrations that sent chills up his spine. Without even thinking about it he reached forward and carded his fingers through Arin’s hair, not exactly pulling, just tightening his grip a little, holding him in place as his hips rolled involuntarily along with the rhythm of Arin’s mouth and tongue. Any concern Dan might have had about that being too aggressive vanished with Arin’s husky moan, pulling back to make eye contact once more, flushed and breathless, his mouth slick with his own spit and smeared lip gloss. Arin’s hands braced firmly against Dan’s hips, holding his gaze as his tongue traveled up his length, sitting up straight, slowly, to let Dan’s dick drag across his cheek and jawline and neck, giving him a show.

He was shameless, Dan realized, his chest rising and falling heavily as Arin did things to him he’d never seen outside porn, gripping him firmly with one hand as his tongue flicked and swirled. It was dirty and vulgar and _perfect_.

“ _Fuck_ -”

Arin made no attempt to keep it a tidy affair. Dan hadn’t ever thought the act of spitting was particularly sexy and now here he was watching his friend intentionally make a sloppy wet mess of his own hand, licking his palm and each of his fingers in turn. As Arin pulled his lips away he left a trail of saliva connecting them to the tip of his index finger, letting it linger and fall, reducing Dan to whimpers at the sight of it. Even after watching the whole ordeal it didn’t prepare him for the way it felt when Arin closed his hand around his cock again. So _wet_ \- Dan’s head fell back and he _moaned_ , grinding his hips upwards indulgently into the grip of Arin’s fist.

“Yeah you like that?”

They were the first words that Arin had spoken to him since this had all begun and Dan could only nod breathlessly.

Arin was persistent for an answer.

“ _Do_ you?”

“Yes-” Dan’s voice was barely a whisper.

“Yeah?”

“Fucking _yes_ -” Dan groaned, twisting his hands back into Arin’s hair, pushing him down, wanting more of his mouth.

Arin was all too happy to oblige.

At this point Dan’s inhibitions were gone, lifting his hips rhythmically off the chair, one hand keeping Arin close, the other desperately grabbing an armrest, head leaned back and eyes closed, panting hard and moaning without restraint. Time slowed to an indulgent crawl and Dan was lost, drowning in pleasure. When his eyes eased open to drink in the sight of it all, he saw that Arin had his dress hiked up around his waist, his free hand curled around his own cock, moving in tandem to what he was doing to Dan. It was that sight that made his stomach flip and the muscles in his thighs clench, his breath quickening.

He knew he was close. And watching Arin bringing himself off was like a push towards a precipice he hadn’t even known he was near. His grip in Arin’s hair tightened and he forced his eyes to stay open.

“I’m-” Dan could barely form words. “Arin, I’m-”

Arin’s eyes darted upward, keeping a steady rhythm with his hand, not replying with words though the hungry look on his face said it all.

“ _Arin_ -”

Words failed Dan as his body arched and tightened, crying out in pleasure as his orgasm ripped through him. His gut tightened again unexpectedly moments later when he saw the physical result of his climax streaked messily across Arin’s cheek and again along his jaw. The effect of it wasn’t lost on Arin, cursing loudly and creatively as the pace of his forearm quickened and he indulged himself to the point of breathlessness, collapsing into Dan’s lap as they both struggled to take in air.

As the haze cleared from the corners of Dan’s vision, he groaned and leaned forward, suddenly less and less sure that what had just happened was as awesome as it had felt moments before. But then Arin looked up, his cheeks tinged pink, the makeup around his eyes blurred from sweat, his lips still swollen from his efforts.

An unexpected wave of warm affection crashed over Dan in that moment, suddenly able to overlook all the other weirdness and unanswered questions that he should have had about recent events.

Carefully, he brushed the tips of his fingers against Arin’s cheek in stark contrast to the way he’d been pulling his hair minutes before. He could feel Arin shiver in response, prompting him to lean forward-

With a startled jolt, Danny woke up with his eyes wide, shoulders tense, disoriented and confused.

The light from his laptop screen stung his vision and his jeans felt uncomfortably tight, along with all of the muscles in his body.

After blinking a few times he was able to make out the time in the top corner of his desktop.

4:53 am

 _Fuck_.

Later, once he’d had a chance to sleep and rest and fully process everything that he’d just experienced- _dreamed_ he immediately corrected himself- he would deal with the initial feeling of overwhelming disappointment as opposed to relief at realizing that none of it had been real.

As it was, he made the decision quite easily to cut his losses for spending the night in his own bed, closing his computer and setting it carefully on the floor and kicking off his pants. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d slept in his boxers on the couch.

And if he was still groggy enough to slip back into the mindset of his dream as his arms twined around a pillow, nuzzling into it as he might have done against a certain someone’s chest, well, no one had to know.


End file.
